


Blooming Embers

by seraphicblades



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hunger Games, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Epilogue Mockingjay, Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:53:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25499386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraphicblades/pseuds/seraphicblades
Summary: A look into Pre-Epilogue Katniss & Peeta. Mending a broken bond & dealing with emotional trauma.
Relationships: Haymitch Abernathy/Effie Trinket, Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	1. Longing Stares

**Author's Note:**

> ** this is my first fanfic so I apologize if it isn't the best! I will be working on improving my piece as I go along.

Sharp pain pushed through her veins, rushed down to all of her limbs. Her arm pulsed from the wound that Johanna carved into her. Enobaria and Brutus hot on her trail. Paused to stare directly down at her. Johanna’s plan hadn’t worked. The careers leapt down like the monkey mutts from the fourth hour in the arena. Vaguely, she wondered which would be sharper, Enobaria or the mutt’s teeth.

  
Before she could find out, something. No, someone shook her. The arena flashed out of view, and her bedroom fell back into focus. Enobaria replaced by Haymitch. His hands flew off her once her hues flashed open.

  
“Good morning sweetheart.”

  
“Not anymore.”

Katniss kicked off her blankets, not minding if they fell into a bundled mess on the floor. Her arms folded tightly across her chest as she pushed past Haymitch into the bathroom. Hastily picking up a toothbrush and paste, head rolled back as she began to brush her teeth.  
“Have you been taking Dr. Aurelius’s medication?”  
“No.”  
She could feel his disappointment before she heard his sigh. The medication made her feel even more numb than she already did. Sure they made it so that she could somewhat function, but it was worse than not being able to function but still experiencing emotions. The doctor had the best intentions in mind, but fell flat. No medicine could cure the nightmares that haunted her whether her eyes were opened or not.

“Why?”

Haymitch all but groaned, she glanced in the mirror to see him pierce holes in the back of her head with his glare.

  
“Why don’t you take yours?” 

  
It was a low blow, and she knew it. Her face twisted up in disgust before she spat the toothpaste into the sink. Washed it down after she gargled water. She’d forgotten how good it felt to have clean teeth and breath that didn’t reek of a thousand dead geese.

  
“It helps with the nightmares.”

  
“I can live with them.”

  
Haymitch took a breath. At least she still had her attitude problem. Though, he wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.  
She walked back through the door, glared at him with enough anger to kill him twice over. Her lips formed a harsh scowl, leaned back against the doorframe. 

  
“Why do you even bother with me?”

  
The question rolled off of her tongue faster than she could stop it. Her stomach dropped instantly. Palms began to sweat as she dug her nails into them. She wasn’t sure why she decided to be so talkative. Usually they would utter a few phrases then he would leave. This day felt different.

  
“Cause you did it for me.”

  
She half expected him to say that Effie paid him to do it. That caught her off guard. She’d nearly forgotten how she’d looked after him after the first games. How her and Peeta woke him up, got him dressed and fed him. He was right, she did and would do it for him if the situation was reversed.

  
Katniss nudged past him and moved down the stairs. Dust flew up as her feet made contact with the cold, rickety wood. Old clothes, broken glass and cobwebs littered the house. Haymitch cared about her but he wasn’t her maid. She knew at some point she would need to clean up. She wasn’t entirely sure when that day would come.  
Progress had been made, as her head doctor had stated. Meer months ago Haymitch had to dress her, feed her, and trap her in the shower to clean herself. Now, she was able to do most of those things on her own. Sometimes she needed to be yelled at to untangle her knotted hair.

  
Recently Haymitch had only come over for the company. She didn’t particularly want him there, but she didn’t kick him out either. Putting up with him because of all he had done for her. She did have to admit, he was much more pleasant sober. Able to hold up a conversation with her was a feat on its own, let alone doing it sober.  
Her fridge was always stocked. She wasn’t entirely sure how, she hardly ever went into town. Only outside to hunt, and even then that was rare. Hauled up in her room, on some occasions the living room. She hadn’t touched the other bedrooms since she returned from her trial. Unsure if she’d be able to bear looking at Prim’s things.

  
She often wondered what Prim did while she was away from home. If she watched, if she stayed in her room. Or if she went out with her friends while Katniss was on her victory tour. There were a lot of things she wished that she could have known about Prim. She tried not to dwell on such questions that would never have an answer.  
Her gaze lingered on a family portrait. She was surprised it had survived so long, and through so much war. Through moving, fire, ashes, explosions. Katniss remembered the day so clearly. Having a photo taken was quite a big deal. Not many people in twelve had them, well in the Seam anyways. Prim wouldn’t sit still unless she was placed on her father’s lap. Curled into his side, barely even showed her face. Katniss had a goofy grin plastered on her face, arms crossed defiantly over her chest. Her mother smiled sweetly, much like Prim.  
While she was transfixed on the image, she nearly missed the last step. Barely able to catch herself. Her palms outstretched and her knees collided with the rug at the bottom of the stairs. She needed to wake up.

  
“You alright?”

  
“Yeah.”

  
She brushed off her pants and struggled a bit to stand. Back pressed against the wall, then quietly pushed herself off towards the kitchen. She brushed her hair behind her ears as she shuffled towards the freezer box and stove. She wasn’t the best cook but she certainly made food, and that was enough for her.  
Fingers quickly picked out two eggs from Haymitch’s geese and cracked them open onto a pan. After she was satisfied with that, she moved on to bread. Sliding four pieces into the oven to toast them. She figured Haymitch wasn’t picky.

  
“When was the last time you went on a walk?”

  
The question caught her off guard, head turned to raise a brow at him. Why did he care about that? Sure he made sure that she was able to stay alive but surely he didn’t care about what she did while she was alive.

  
“Not for a long time. When was the last time you went for a walk?”

  
She knew that he went into town. A lot. To stock up on his own food, people watch and most shocking of all: talk and help people. She supposed she was at least glad he had a normal life now. As normal as he could.

  
“You should go outside, I’ll watch your attempt at breakfast.”

  
“You’re acting strange.” She narrowed her eyes at his comment on her cooking skills. It wasn’t like he was any better with his grey mush for every meal. 

  
Nonetheless, she moved to open the front door. The sun nearly blinded her, quickly shielding her eyes with her hands. Taking a moment to adjust before her hand returned to her side. The warmth of the ray’s soaked into her translucent skin. She’d nearly forgotten what it had felt like to be out in the sun. To hear the birds chirping, wind whipping against her skin.   
It was . . . nice.

  
Her palms gripped the chipped railing as she took in the world around her. Well, what was left of it. The victor’s village still in decent condition, though still deteriorating by the minute. The rest of twelve, she hadn't seen. Only heard about.

Buildings restored and improved. Roads paved, gravel replaced. Homes improved to mirror those of the rest of the districts. The electric fence behind the Seam was taken down officially, the Wilds free for anyone to explore. Many people moved to twelve, though she couldn’t fathom why that was.  
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement. Her head tilted to the side, then finally she turned to see a figure standing near the edge of the village. Hunched over, tools sprawled next to him. What was he doing? And who was that?

  
She wasn’t sure why she began to move towards the stranger. Maybe he had moved into one of the vacant houses in the village. He had flaxen hair, a bit outgrown. A stocky build, but his clothes appeared to be a little loose on him.  
As she got closer, she could make out small details of his face. The sun was still nearly blinding her dilated pupils. What was once a careful sidestep turned into a gentle jog when she saw a false leg on the man.

  
“Peeta!”

  
For a moment, she hesitated. Standing a mere three feet from him. Sudden memories flooded of the last time they reunited. Almost waiting for him to strike at her. Staring at him, waiting for an attack. No attack came, so she got closer.

  
“Are those . . ." 

  
“Primroses, I found them a little outside where the gates used to be and . . .”

  
She quickly pulled Peeta into a hug, disregarding whatever he was going to continue on with. Her fingers entangling in his shirt, gripping onto it as though her life depended on it. Hues flooded with tears that escaped without protest onto her rosy cheeks.

  
“You came home.”


	2. A Gentle Push

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haymitch gives Katniss a gentle push in the right direction, for old times sake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience as I wrote this chapter. It's a bit shorter than the last but chapter 3 will be much longer. I hope you enjoy <3

Katniss felt her heart pounding in her ears. The rapid **thump thump** made her unable to hear what Haymitch had said. She shook her head as if to shake away the sound,   
“What?”

  
“I said how has it gone, with loverboy? Have you had him over yet?”

  
Why did Haymitch care what they did or didn’t do? It didn’t affect them. His prying was beyond annoying. Infuriating even.

  
“ _No_.”

  
It came out harsher than she would have liked but she made no effort to correct herself. Haymitch rarely ever pried her for information. Not about her nightmares, not about her mother, not about Gale, never. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, he was just bad at feelings in general.   
She didn’t blame him, she wouldn’t know what to tell him if he came to her with his nightmares. Sorry? No, there was nothing that could be said between the pair that would be of any benefit.  
She spared him a glance to see his gaze seeming locked in on her. Her eyes narrowing into a venomous glare, digits digging into her palm and leaving behind little crescent shaped markings. He didn’t budge, merely taking a bite of his toast.

  
“Have you talked to him?”

  
Her lips seemed to have a mind of their own, spewing out whatever little thought they had.

  
“He had me over for dinner last night.”

  
There was a twinge of something in her heart at that. _Jealousy_? _Embarrassment_? Both seemed to be the culprit. It wouldn’t have been the first time that she’d been upstaged by Peeta. She wasn’t sure who she was more jealous of. Haymitch for getting to eat with Peeta or Peeta who invited Haymitch over. Whereas she never invited him over, he just let himself in.  
He was the first to ask Haymitch to save her life. He was the first to talk about a strategy to keep them alive. He was always the one that seemed to be one step ahead of her. However, this wasn’t a game where one could get ahead of another. No, he was just being his courteous self. She was falling flat in that department. In fact, she wondered why Haymitch even bothered to talk to her. 

  
“That’s nice.”

  
She managed to grimace out. Barely.

  
“It was, he asked about you.”

  
That managed to pique her interest even more so. A brow arched as she shoved a piece of bread into her mouth, forcing it down before she said anything else. She’d at least try to think before she spoke again.

  
“What did he ask?”

  
Her words muffled through the bread piece, trying to keep nonchalant though it was obvious by her body language alone that she was anything but. Her back now erect in front of the chair back, her eyes trained on Haymitch- awaiting a response, the slightest of trembling forming in her hands.

  
“Wanted to see how you were doing. Asked what you’ve been keeping yourself busy with.”

  
Katniss hesitates. That was his big question?

  
“What did you tell him?”

  
“To ask you tomorrow over lunch.”

  
There goes the stupid **thump thump** again. Her body going rigid, olive complexion draining to an ivory white.

  
“You said what?”

  
“Ask you over lunch tomorrow.”

  
How could Haymitch be so calm about it? Why would he do this to her?

  
“I’m- not ready. I don’t even know what I would say. . . Ask him how the weather was in the capitol?”

  
Haymitch shrugs, picking up his plate and moving to go wash it in the dirt lined sink. Spraying down the plate as he muses,  
“I’m sure you can figure it out, you’re kind of smart.”

  
Katniss felt an all too familiar anger rise from her belly. The crescents in her palm becoming deeper and deeper by each passing second.

  
The dishes clattered against the sink as Haymitch turned back around to face the victor. His arms folded tightly over his chest, feet crossed one in front the other. He let out a small puff of air to push away some stray hairs, which landed right back where they were before. His chin tilted up at his words, gauging her reaction.

  
“I don’t know why I keep you around.”

  
With that, Haymitch stood up and started to walk out the door- pausing at the threshold.

  
“You know, you do deserve him. I was wrong about you.”

  
_You could save him a thousand times and never deserve that boy._

  
_Promise me you’ll find it, the life of a victor._


End file.
